I Love Quidditch and You Too
by Youmightdietrying
Summary: <html><head></head>Running into an old teammate in Diagon Alley inspires Professional Quiddtich star Harry Potter to rethink what he wants to do with his life.  Together they realize that they share more than just a love for the wizarding world's favorite sport.  HP/KB</html>
1. Chapter 1

It was a rare occurrence that Harry Potter was allowed to casually walk through Diagon Alley without a gaggle of admirers all vying for his attention. It was so rare, in fact, that he could never actually recall a time when it had ever occurred. That was his life though, he was the shining star in the solar system that everyone seemed to revolve around. He had grudgingly learned to deal with the attention, throwing out as many genuine smiles and handshakes as was physically possible for a single human. Of course there were times when he felt like brandishing his wand and banishing the crowds, but those times were few and far between.

He had to admit to himself that while a lot of the attention was not of his own making, some of it was his own fault. Never had he asked for his parents to be cut down while he was still a baby, or to be the one forced to rid the world of the walking evil that was Tom Riddle. But following his Hogwarts graduation, instead of going and hiding away from the hustle and bustle of society, Harry had decided to invite even more into his already crazy existence. Yes, the famous Harry Potter had thrown away every single piece of transfiguration and every defense maneuver he had learned at Hogwarts and signed a generous offer to join a professional quidditch club.

Harry placed his hands in the front pockets of his green Kenmare Kestrels sweatshirt and continued his path down the deserted street. Of all the teams that people had speculated he would play for, Kenmare had certainly never been at the top of the list. The minute it had become known that he had signed the contract, Oliver Wood had shown up at his door, completely dumbfounded as to why he had turned down the lucrative offer from Puddlemere. Harry couldn't really provide a solid answer, but part of him thought it was because they were an unknown entity. There were no preconceived notions about their style of play and no outrageous characters that made the team unattractive. They weren't a powerhouse by any means, but a solid option in Harry's opinion. Even with Oliver's consternation his friends had been extremely supportive.

He had signed his contract four years ago, and had just completed his final year. The experience had been pretty much everything he had expected in being a professional athlete. There were ups and downs during the seasons, raucous parties with overly flirtatious women, and injuries that made a person question their sanity the morning after a match. Harry had enjoyed most of the aspects. He had two player of the year awards to his name, but sadly no league championships. The latest season for the Kestrels had ended a week ago with a tough loss to the Wimbourne Wasps in the playoffs. Two quick injuries to their starting beaters had forced Harry to dodge the bludgers most of the game, and he was delayed in catching the snitch until the Wasps had taken a sizable lead behind their talented chasers. The disappointment of the loss had not worn off, but Harry took the loss in stride just as everything else in his life.

As much as he loved quidditch, Harry wasn't sure what the upcoming year would bring for him. At only twenty-two and with his contract up, teams would surely be in a bidding war for his services, but he didn't know if that was the direction he wanted to continue in. He was young and there were so many options out in the world for him to consider. Harry's agent had been expressly instructed not to even talk to him about the future for another month or so. In the meantime, Harry would enjoy the beginning of the offseason and the beginning of the Christmas holiday.

Harry had risen at the crack of dawn that morning in order to make it to Diagon Alley just when the shops were opening to the public. He had been so busy with the quidditch season, that with only a week until Christmas he had not managed to get any shopping done. Walking swiftly, he finally reached his first destination, Flourish and Blotts. Pulling open the door, he shuffled in and was immediately hit with a blast of warmth that so contrasted with the weather outside. The somewhat comforting smell of bound parchment filled his nostrils and he moved around the vast shelves searching for potential gifts. The person at the checkout counter obviously recognized him, but the scraggly young man did his best to keep his glances subtle, which Harry appreciated.

A half hour of browsing and Harry had managed to get two people out of the way, Hermione and his godson Teddy. Hermione was currently apprenticing with a judge for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, so Harry had bought her the newest set of quality magical legal texts. For Teddy, he found an array of different children books that were appropriate for his age level, some on magical creatures that magically popped out of the pages, and some other fantastical fiction. After paying for his purchases, as well a signing an autography for the appreciative employee, Harry set off for his next stop, Quality Quidditch Supplies.

In his time in the bookstore, more holiday shoppers had begun to emerge in the alley. Wanting to try and limit the stares, Harry pulled the hood of his sweater over his head, hiding his noticeable dark hair from view. He managed to stealthily navigate his way to the quidditch supply store, where he decided to remove his hood. Instantly, a little girl with short blonde hair tugged at her father's robes and pointed in Harry's direction. Smiling and giving slight wave, Harry began perusing the racks of broomsticks, quaffles and the like. He had not been to the store for a while as most of his things were provided by his team, but he was impressed with the quality of items and the selection. Harry couldn't fail but notice a poster on the wall featuring him and few seekers from other professional teams.

Searching for several minutes, he couldn't really come to decision on what exactly he was looking for. His main goal had been to find something for the Weasley's, everyone, but Arthur and Molly. Putting some thought into the decision, he remembered that the last time he had been at the Burrow one of the brooms they used for quidditch games had finally puttered out. Harry decided then that instead of getting individual gifts for each Weasley, he would get them a joint gift, that being a whole new set of brooms, pad, and balls for the shed. He knew it would be expensive, but he figured that it would be a good investment for all of the grandchildren that would surely be roaming the Burrow at some point in the future. Settling on his plan of attack, Harry went towards the front of the store to put in his substantial order. However, before Harry could take more than a step, a voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Well, well, well. It isn't everyday that we get a star quidditch player to grace us with their presence."

Harry quickly turned around, vaguely recognizing the person's voice. He was greeted by the smiling face of his former Hogwarts house member and former quidditch teammate, Katie Bell. Her medium length brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she had a pair of glasses, that he had not known her to ever wear, sitting on the top of her head. She was wearing a rather form fitting pair of jeans and her arms were crossed over her chest, seeming to cover the Quality Quidditch Supplies logo on her shirt. Using his excellent detective skills, Harry deduced that it was very likely that she worked in the store. Noticing that she had a wide smile on her face and she was only teasing in her tone, Harry decided to have a little fun with his former teammate.

"Excuse me, do I know you miss?" Harry inquired with an obvious grin. "You certainly look familiar. but I just can't seem to place your face. Did we used to date? You know us quidditch stars, we go through girls like their water." A little shocked at his teasing, Katie tried look scandalized before she started to laugh.

"Ha, ha, very funny Harry," she responded. Quickly stepping forward, she uncrossed her arms, extended them out and enveloped him in a hug which Harry was startled by but quickly returned. Still smiling, she said, "It's been awhile hasn't it? I don't think I've seen you since someone's birthday party a few years ago."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck thinking about it. "That sounds about right, it was at the Three Broomsticks I think." Harry chuckled to himself just remembering something. "I seem to recall someone getting pissed and trying to climb the wall to get into Hogwarts. That and the Headmistress ranting and throwing stinging hexes at them until they stopped screwing with the wards on the castle."

They both looked at each other for a second before they both said the same thing, "Seamus," and chuckled together at the ridiculous memory.

"So what brings you into this fine establishment so early on a Monday morning? I'll take a guess and say someone has been procrastinating in their Christmas shopping?" Katie inquired.

Harry again shoved his hand into his pockets, a slight look of guilt on his face. "It seems you've caught me. Although, in my defense, practice and road matches have sort of monopolized most of my free time."

"Sorry about that last game, Harry," Katie consoled. "Losing a first string beater five minutes into the game is tough enough, but losing both in less than ten is unheard of. I managed to catch most of it on the wireless while I was working the other day. The announcers were very complimentary of your effort though."

Harry merely shrugged at the praise. "Don't take this the wrong way, but people are so blinded by my fame most of the time, especially the announcers, that if I were to literally leave for tea in the middle of a match, they would somehow pass it off as some sort of genius strategy on my part. Take what you hear with a grain of salt."

"I'm sure that works both ways though," Katie noted. "You're so modest that chances are you'll downplay how good you play as well." Katie looked like she suddenly realized they were still in the middle of the store and that she was working. "So, seeing as I work here, do you need any help with anything in particular. Not that I really need to explain what something in here does to you."

Harry moved over to a rack of brooms, pulling off a slightly improved model of the Firebolt that Sirius had purchase for him in third year. "I hope you don't mind me taking up too much of your time, but I need to place a rather large order. I need seven of this model of broom, seven sets of the quality pads, and one set of the professional standard quidditch balls."

Katie pulled out a small pad of paper from her back pocket and a quill that had been sitting on a shelf. "So that's seven brooms, seven sets of pads, and professional quidditch set. Did you need all of that today, want it delivered, or some other arrangement?"

Harry thought about it for several seconds before deciding a surprise would be his best option. "All of the Weasley's don't usually get together until Christmas afternoon, so if there is a way they could be delivered then that would work if it's possible. I'll happily pay extra for the delivery as well."

Katie made a note of it on her pad, and pulled the single sheet with his order off. "Christmas delivery won't be a problem. The owners have several house elves that work for them that do deliveries. Most people request deliveries in the morning so the afternoon schedule should be pretty clear. Come on up front and we'll get you checked out."

The price for the gifts turned out to be substantial, but Harry didn't blink an eyes as he signed for the proper amount for withdraw from his bank account. The amount for the quidditch supplies barely made a dent into one of the bonuses that he had earned that season for Kenmare, holding the league lead for fastest snitch caught during the regular season. Still, he wouldn't be sharing the actual price with the Weasley family even if they were better off than they had once been. Katie handed him a copy of his receipt as well a reminder about the delivery date.

"Thanks for the purchases Harry, I think the store will definitely be pulling in a profit today thanks to you," Katie assured.

Harry shook his head at her antics, "I like to think I'm helping out by stimulating the economy." Just as he was about to make his goodbyes he noticed a flyer sitting out on top of the counter. Apparently the store was sponsoring an auction to benefit the Children's Ward at St. Mungo's. There was a list of various items that would be up for bidding donated by several players around the professional league. Harry could swear he remembered one of his teammates from the Kestrels mentioning it to him. "Say, Katie, I have a bunch of stuff lying around that I'd be willing to donate for the auction if it's not too late to do so."

Katie beamed at him. "Oh, Harry, that would really be appreciated," she exclaimed. "We're throwing a big New Year's Eve party where we'll have the auction as well, so there's still plenty of time to donate whatever you're willing. I'm actually the one in charge of organizing the items so if you want to schedule some time to get them to me that would be great." Katie quickly and excitedly pulled out another piece of paper and scribbled something down before handing it to Harry. "That's my street address and floo address. I wasn't sure what your preferred means of travel was so I put down both. Just send me an owl and we can figure out a time that works."

Harry took a quick look at the paper before he folded and placed it in his pocket. "I'll send you an owl later and let you know. It was great seeing you Katie, we shouldn't wait another three years before it happens again. Now that I know you're working here I'll have to find a reason to buy more quidditch supplies."

Katie raised an eyebrow at him, "Or you could just stop in and say hi."

"That would work too," Harry nodded. "See you later. I'll find those things for the auction after I finish my Christmas shopping today." Waving as he made his way out of the store and into the mob that was now Diagon Alley, Harry could only shake his head when he noticed another sale clerk in the store seeming to be interrogating Katie over the fact she was just talking to the famous Harry Potter. For a second he felt bad for her and the unwanted attention. However, his sympathy quickly evaporated as a group of adolescent girls screamed hysterically at the sight of him. That triggered a chain reaction in which the majority of the Alley's occupants turned their attention to him. At that point Harry came to the inevitable conclusion that being famous bloody sucked


	2. Chapter 2

When Harry had said that he had plenty of things lying around for the auction, that had been a severe understatement. The combination of being young, a bachelor, and a professional quidditch player had turned Harry into something of a pack rat. His small cottage house on the outskirts of Kenmare was full of jerseys, pads, and pieces of broken brooms that he had gone through in the past four years of playing. Being somewhat sentimental about some of the items, and a generally disorganized person meant that he had neglected to toss anything away. As he threw various items into boxes he reminisced about some of the games where the items had been used. One particular green jersey he had just picked up he could remember clearly wearing during a game in his first year against the Cannons. The poor seeker for the other team had underestimated a rookie Harry and was outmaneuvered right off of his broom. On his flight towards the ground he had tried to grab onto Harry and gotten a firm grasp on the back of Harry's jersey, stretching the neck and almost beheading him in the process. Fortunately the orange clad seeker's momentum had been too much, forcing his grip to slip and landing him on the ground with a grotesque crunch. It was a disturbing memory, but a memory none the less. Some of the other things were much more pleasant to recall.

Packing and sealing up the last box of things he was going to take to Katie's, Harry moved to the kitchen, intent on finding something for dinner. The rather small kitchen was indicative of the entire cottage. There were two bedrooms, one of which Harry used as a study, a living room, kitchen, and single bathroom. The whole place was rather bland as Harry hadn't made many changes since buying it after finishing his final, extra year at Hogwarts. The walls were white and all the furniture was dark, solid colors. It wasn't the most attractive, but Harry felt it was comfortable enough. Only his close friends actually knew he lived there. Any girl that he had been with over the past four years he had convinced into going to their place instead of his citing safety concerns. The media would most likely be shocked that the savior of the wizarding world was living so far below his means. He still had the title to Sirius' old home, but too many painful memories were inherent in that place, that he avoided it like the plague.

Harry, clad in his customary long sleeved Kestrels shirt and pair of athletic pants, bent down under one of the cupboards and pulled out a pan to heat some left over vegetable stew that he had in the fridge. Just after he switched on the burner for the stove, a sudden swooping noise to his left drew his attention. Reflexively his hand went to his pocket, gripping the handle of his wand, but he relaxed instantly when he saw his small, white owl, Skippy, sitting on the ledge on his open kitchen window.

"You startled me," Harry admonished, grabbing an owl treat from a blue ceramic jar on the counter, and walking over to greet his feathered friend. He softly rubbed the feathers on his back while holding out the treat in the palm of his hand. "I guess I can't complain about you too much though. It's better to have an owl that startles you once in a while, than having that menacing terror that Ron calls a pet. I'm honestly surprised the little thing hasn't been blasted into bits yet." Watching his friend enjoy his snack, Harry was instantly reminded he was supposed to send a note off to Katie about a time to come over. "I know you've just returned, but I need you to deliver another letter for me. After this one I promise I'll give you a day off." Skippy barely gave a hoot in acknowledgement before finishing off the rest of his food. Not able to find any spare parchment anywhere, Harry took a month old copy of the Daily Prophet sitting on his counter, tore off the largest blank portion of it he could see. He scribbled a quick message to Katie and went back over to attach it to Skippy's leg. "Make sure you stay until Katie can give you a message back. I'm not sure if she has her own owl or not. Have a safe flight." The snowy owl, a miniature of the late Hedwig, gave a few quick flaps of his wings before it jettisoned off into the chilly night.

oooooooooooooooo

If there was one thing that Harry hated, it was being woken up by someone else besides himself. The last thing he remembered was sitting in his lounger in his study going through some bank statements from Gringotts. Money matters for most people would be something that kept them up at night, but for him, someone who had copious amounts of it, all it did was put him to sleep. Hazily, Harry opened his eyes to see what had disturbed his unexpected slumber, and was surprised once agains to see Skippy sitting on his knee like it was the most natural place for him to be. There was a new piece of parchment rolled up and tied with a green piece of string attached to his leg.

"I must have accidentally bought owl treats that were spiked with strengthening potion, because I think you just set a speed record for post delivery," Harry complimented. He hadn't expected the minute creature to be able to make it back until breakfast at the least the next morning, but it was only a little after 2 a.m.. The owl seemed to ignore Harry's praise, simply raising its head as if saying his master had simply underestimated his substantial flying abilities. Harry made quick work of pulling the rolled parchment from Skippy's leg and opening it to read.

_Dear Harry,_

_It was good to hear from you so soon, just like you promised. Before we get to the auction details, I just have to say there is something exceedingly strange about this owl that you sent. I went to take a shower after I got off of work, and when I stepped out of my bathroom when I was finished, your owl was just sitting on a light fixture outside the door, staring and waiting for me. That's not the strange part though. I didn't have any doors or windows for him to get in from. I really have no explanation for it. It would figure that Harry Potter would have an extraordinary owl._

_Anyway, back to the real topic. I'm only working until noon tomorrow, so if you'd like to stop over any time after then I should be home. Who am I kidding? My life isn't that exciting, I'll be home. I look forward to seeing you again, and I really appreciate your contributions. I would have contacted you about the auction myself, but I know you must get these sorts of request all the time, which makes it all the more considerate of you to take the time._

_Love,_

_Katie_

Finishing his letter, Harry's first instinct was to ask Skippy how had managed to get into Katie's home without someone letting him in, but the owl had somehow managed to fly off of Harry's knee while he was reading without his notice. Shaking his head, Harry silently thanked his owl for at least waking him up so he would not be sore in the morning from sleeping all night on a chair.

ooooooooooooooooooo

Harry checked the address that Katie had written down the previous day to make sure he was in the right place. The London neighborhood was rather nice, with rows of two story connected home along the streets. It was rather surprising that someone as young as Katie lived there by herself, unless she was still living with her parents. The house Katie had written down was made of brick, with a black roof and chimney on top. If Harry had to take a guess, the chimney was the best bet on how Skippy had made it in. Luckily Harry had the privilege and ability to use the front door.

There was not a car in front of the house, so Harry guessed Katie must confine herself to magical means or walking. There was a black iron gate in front of the house that Harry pushed aside as he walked up to the door. Harry rapped his knuckles against the door several times, hoping it was loud enough to get her attention. Sure enough he heard rustling on the other side of the door and then there was Katie standing in front of him with a welcoming smile. She was outfitted much the same as she was yesterday, however her hair was down and she was wearing her glasses. Instead of the normal athletic look that she sported, it gave her more of the adorable nerd persona. It suited her well in Harry's opinion, speaking as someone who had worn glasses for as long he could remember.

"Are those new, I don't think I can remember you having to wear them at Hogwarts?" Harry questioned.

"Oh no," she answered reaching up to readjust them on her face. "I only wear them when I read. When I was at Hogwarts I got headaches when I would read for classes and I always just figured it was the material stressing me out. Turned out it was my eyes, but I don't wear them all the time. Why, do they look horrid?"

"No, no, of course not!" Harry quickly assured, sorry they he had made her feel self conscious. "I think they suit you really well. I was just curious."

"That's good then," she smiled, seemingly relieved. "Why don't you come in? I'm assuming you shrunk the things for the auction, since you're not carrying anything."

Harry stepped into the home, walking right into the kitchen. Besides the normal appliances and the dark wooden cabinets, there was a round dining table that took up most of the room. He walked over towards it, reached into his pocket and deposited his miniature boxes. With a subtle wave of his wand, the boxes were returned to their original condition. Katie walked over with a stunned look on her face. "Holy merlin Harry, I didn't realize you were bringing so much. This is amazing! We are going to raise so much money." Katie instantly reached for a box feeling how heavy it was.

"Yeah, I wasn't really sure what sort of things you would want. I just included anything that I was willing to part with." Harry went over and started unsealing the tops of the boxes so they could have a look inside. "I think there is at least one of everything you could possibly think of related to a quidditch team."

Katie reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a game worn jersey. She moved it around in her hands, admiring the stitching of his name and number on the back of it. He had chosen to wear the number for four in remembrance of the four most important people he had lost in his life. One number each for his mother, and the three lost Marauders. When he had chosen it, his friends had asked why he didn't include Dumbledore, but Harry had just answered that he had his reasons. The feeling that the Headmaster had manipulated him for a large portion of his life the most glaring.

"You know Harry," Katie started timidly, "I hate to be a bother by asking, but would you mind doing me a favor and signing all of this stuff? It's just that everything is much more valuable with your signature on it. Only if you are willing, of course."

Harry merely shrugged, unperturbed by her request. "Whatever you need. I should have thought of that myself while I was packing it up. I guess I was just so excited to be able to move around my home finally without the risk of tripping over something and breaking a bone. Do you have a muggle marker by any chance? I've always found they work better than trying to sign with quills."

Katie applauded at his easy acceptance. "Sure Harry, there's one around this place somewhere." She left the room for several minutes before returning with a pack of markers in all different colors. "Pick which ever one you fancy."

Four hours and one extremely sore hand later, everything Harry had bought was signed and catalogued away to be auctioned. Harry had done double duty, signing and also giving Katie a description of the objects that she could right down. She noticed Harry massaging his knuckles and looked at him guiltily. "Do you need anything for that Harry? I may have some pain potion if you'd like it."

"Don't worry about it Katie," Harry waved her concern off. "I think I've broken every bone in this hand at one point or another, a little stiffness won't kill me."

"I still feel bad," Katie stated. "At least let me make it up to you. Let's go grab a bite to eat and we can catch up on all the time we haven't seen each other." Harry agreed, eager to get a chance to talk without being in a rush. Not that he would actually allow her to pay for dinner. He'd let her think so until after they were done.


	3. Chapter 3

The pub that Katie had taken him to was rather small and dimly lighted, but overall had a very homely and welcoming feeling to it. It was also muggle, which guaranteed them no sudden interruptions from Harry's many eager admirers. The two had just finished a surprisingly good meal and were just sitting in a secluded booth finishing off their pints of the local brew.

"Do you come here often?" Harry questioned.

"Once in a while, not too often. Right after Hogwarts I spent a lot of time going out with friends and such, but then the realities of life set in. Now that I work all the time, I'm never much in the mood to stay out." Katie took a sip of her drink, and leaned back into the cushioned back behind her. "What about you Harry? I'm sure the lads must keep you out every night, especially after games. Do you all stay perpetually sloshed?"

Harry chuckled at her description. "I'm afraid that probably describes my first year with Kenmare. You want to make a good impression on the other players so you just sort of go along with whatever they do. I think I've been to more pubs than I can recall, and some that I can't because I wasn't in much shape to remember the next morning. I'm sure you have seen some of those photos of me in the Prophet though, not my most glorious of moments."

"I think I can vaguely recall some of those," Katie grinningly replied. "Although I don't think there have been any for a while now. What happened, too much of a good thing?

"Not really, no. Right after I signed my contract with the Kestrals, Ginny and I decided to go our separate ways. We had been together for over a year, so I was a little out of it for a while there. Quidditch and drinking helped me forget about it for a bit. Once I got over the break up though, I slowed down on the drinking part. I rarely go out with the team anymore, usually only after really good wins."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened with Ginny? The press made a big deal of it, but there were never really any details."

"Ah, I can't really put a finger on what exactly happened," Harry sighed. "It was all really good when we first got together in my sixth year, but after the war we sort of just drifted some. When I signed with Kenmare and she signed onto the reserves with the Harpies we just realized it was best to end it then instead of dragging it out. I was upset at first, but I got over it."

"No bad feelings then?"

Harry shook his head. "No, we're still good friends. I talk to her all the time when I'm at the Weasley's and it's not awkward anymore. She's working for the Prophet right now doing some editing for the quidditch reporters. I think the last time we talked she said they may give her a shot at writing on her own column."

"Oh, well that's good then," Katie commented.

"What about you, how has life been treating you since Hogwarts? I'm surprised you're not playing professionally as well, you were a really talented chaser."

"Thanks Harry," she blushed. "That means a lot coming from England's most famous seeker. I tried out for a few teams after I graduated and there was some interest, but then the war took off and the league completely shut down. I just didn't have the drive to put myself through the training after it ended though. I still love the game, but I'm just not dedicated enough for the professionals."

"You could train with me if you'd like during the offseason. I'd be to willing put in a good word with someone," he offered.

"That's really thoughtful of you Harry, but it's just not for me anymore. I'd still love to do something with quidditch that does not involve working in a supply shop, but it pays the bills for the moment. I'd really love to do something like teach flying, but there really aren't any openings for that kind of thing."

"Have you inquired about a job with Hogwarts, see if they could use an extra flying instructor?"

"No thank you," Katie said decisively. "I loved Hogwarts for the most part while I was there apart from a certain cursed necklace, but I have no intention to spend my adult years there. No, I'm afraid its the status quo for me for the foreseeable future. Anyway, what are you going to do next season? You're contract is up isn't it?"

"It is," Harry affirmed. "I haven't really given it much thought as of yet. I'm not really one hundred percent sure I still want to play. If I do there's no way I'm signing a long term deal. Maybe one more year to see if I can get myself a league cup."

Katie looked surprised at Harry's admission. "But what will you do if you don't play quidditch? I cannot imagine you getting a ministry job."

"Maybe you can get me a job with you selling quidditch supplies," he joked. "I'm sure I could make the transition from using the stuff to selling it. Although, I'd probably be too much of a distraction to be very productive. Anyway, if I don't go back to quidditch i'll probably go and start having a house built for myself. I've never intended on staying in Kenmare after I finished playing and I think it would be a good investment."

"If you need any decorating tips let me know," Katie offered. "I just finished getting my place in order. My grandmother passed away last summer and left me her home."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Harry consoled. "Were you close with her? I barely got to know my parents and I can barely be in the same town they lived in let alone live in their actual house."

Katie put on a thoughtful face. "I don't know how I feel about it really. I mean of course I love the fact that it's fully paid for, but walking around there by myself is hard sometimes. I'll walk into a room where she used to read to me when I was a little girl, or have a memory of her baking in the kitchen and try not to lose control of my emotions, but I'm usually not successful."

"That's understandable. It won't ever go away, but it will get easier over time. Trust me, I speak from horrible experience." Harry took the final sip of his beverage and checked the time on his watch. He was surprised that it was already so late. Then again, he couldn't remember the last time he had been able to sit down and have a good conversation with a friend. "Why don't we start out and I'll walk you home?"

"Sure Harry, that would be lovely." Harry noticed her go for her purse and begin to reach for money, but by the time she looked back up he was already settling the tab with the bartender. She walked up and met him at the bar and simply gave him a piercing look, but Harry noticed there was a joking air to it. She simply shook her head in exasperation and led them out the front door. Harry was just glad she wasn't like Ron when it came to him paying for things.

They walked side by side down the street, leisurely strolling in the waning light and chilly winter air. Harry had placed both his hands as far as they would go into the pockets of his wool jacket. He noticed that Katie had been thoughtful enough to bring gloves and a cap and seemed to be warmed comfortably by the garments. He had wanted to start talking again but she had the cap pulled down so far over her ears that he was afraid it would be a struggle for her to hear him. Luckily it was only a ten minute walk before they were once again standing at her front door. Katie placed the key into the door knob and pushed it open before turning back to Harry, who had remained a step back.

"Would you like to come in for tea or coffee, Harry?"

Harry contemplated her question for several seconds. On the one hand he could go home to his empty house, sit and do absolutely nothing for the rest of the night until he likely passed out in on his couch, or he could stay with Katie who he been having an admittedly good time spending time with. He decided to go with the more attractive option, following Katie into her home.

"What will it be? Tea?" Katie asked. "I do have coffee, but I never actually drink it and I think its been in the cupboard for several years. I've never been fond of it really to begin with, but I can't imagine it being any better stale."

"Tea would be great," Harry answered slipping his jacket off and placing it on the back of a kitchen chair. He smoothed the front of his green button-down shirt and watched as Katie flitted around the kitchen. She noticed him just standing and watching her.

"You can go sit in the living room and make yourself comfortable Harry, no need to wait in here." Harry followed her directions and went through the only other door that was off of the kitchen. As soon as Harry had walked into the room he was admittedly hit with an unquestionable air of muggleness. He stared around the whole room and he could hardly see any indication that a magical being lived in the house. The walls were split, the lower half being regular wall, the top a dark wooden paneling. A deep, deep crimson colored the bottom portion of the walls and Harry could definitely feel the Gryffindor influence coming out in Katie's choice of color. The floors were the same type of dark hard wood and there were several large rugs spread out every few feet. For seating there was a large tan couch that looked like it had seen plenty of use, but still looked very comfortable. There was also recliner beside the couch.

What stood out though was that Katie had a full supply of muggle items. There was a television situate across form the couch as well as a shelf full of movies. Behind the couch, sitting on a table, was a large, black stereo system. All of the pictures that littered the room were likewise muggle, none of subjects of the photos traipsing about in their frames. Harry walked over to a shelf that was filled with family photographs, and admired Katie in varying poses with her family. There was one photo of young Katie, maybe no older than a third year, standing in her Hogwarts robes with what guessed were here parents arms surrounding her. It was a nice picture, but like most of those types of photos, Harry couldn't stand staring at them as they only reinforced the things that he had lacked growing up. The other pictures of Katie with Alicia and Angelina as well as the one with her grandmother were less painful for him to look at.

"Admiring my lovely visage in the photos Harry?" Harry turned around and saw Katie carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea. She walked over to Harry who pulled the mug closest to him off. Katie grabbed the remaining tea and placed the tray on an end table to pick up later.

"Well yes I was," Harry started, "but I was more curious about the absence of anything magical in here. I would never have guessed a witch lived here if I hadn't known before hand." Harry took a seat on the couch and carefully sipped on his still scalding tea. It wasn't as sweet as he usually took it, but it still got the job done.

Katie walked over and took a seat in the recliner. "Well I don't know if you know, or if I've ever told you, but I'm a half blood. Both of my parents are wizards, but my father's a first generation wizard, both of his parents were muggles. This was his mother's house. I've grown up all around the muggle world so I like to keep myself grounded in it somewhat. I do have to admit that I'm a bit addicted to the tele. I keep all of my magical odds and ends put away because the magic likes to wreak havoc on the cable sometimes." They sat in comfortable silence for several more minute after Katie finished her explanation. Harry suddenly remembered that he had wanted to ask her about something as finished off the last of his tea.

"Hey, Katie, I was wondering about this thing on New Years, is this a private event or is it open to the public."

"It's private for the most part. I was really only in charge of the planning of the items for the auction. The owners of the store were completely in control of the guest list. It's all the wealthy masses who have been invited to make sure that there is plenty of people to bid on the items. I'm pretty sure that St. Mungos is bringing some of the children over from the hospital early on so that they can see all of the money that's going to them."

"So no players are going to be at this thing?"

"Not that I know of," Katie answered. "I don't think any were really thrilled about committing to anything over the holidays. Why, did you want to go? I didn't think you were one for these fancy things."

"Well I was only going to suggest going because there would be kids from the hospital there. Watching the bidding the can't be that exciting for them, there should at least be someone from the league there for them to see." Harry watched as Katie leaned back into her recliner and seemed to again think deeply about something. If Harry wasn't mistaken he could swear she looked bashful or embarrassed about something.

Clearing her throat quickly, Katie began, "I'm not sure about being able to get another ticket for the event at this point because I don't hold that much sway with the owners and this thing has been planned for a while now, but there is something else that would work. See, since I was in charge of getting all of the auction items, I get to go to the party and I can bring a date as well..."

It did not take Harry long to figure out what she was suggesting. "Oh, Katie, I don't want to impose if you already had plans to take someone. Really it's not that big of a deal."

Katie waved his concern away quickly. "Really, Harry, it's not an issue. I'm not seeing anyone, and I had been planning on just going on my own. I think it's really nice that you want to show up for the kids. Please, come with me to the party? That is unless you're seeing someone, then I would completely understand. I don't want to create a media frenzy if we show up together."

"Not a problem Katie. I haven't been in a relationship for over a year." Harry frowned after saying that. "Well, if you read the tabloids I'm currently involved with twenty-three different women, but I suggest you take my word over theirs."

Katie laughed. "I don't read those anyway Harry. I guess I have date then."

"I guess you do."


	4. Chapter 4

The day before Christmas Eve had brought with it a harsh weather front that was viciously pounding against the entirety of the U.K.. The air had warmed up just enough that all of the precipitation was rain and not snow; whether or not one was better than the other was really a matter of personal preference. However, the front had also brought with it whipping winds that seemed to shake and rattle everything in its path. Having finished all of his preparations for his holiday activities, Harry was content to lie back on his couch and listen to the rain falling heavily against his roof and watch the trees outside of his windows swaying in the forceful breeze. The branches moving back and forth so quickly were hypnotizing and after only a few minutes Harry had found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. That was the main reason that he was completely unaware when his fireplace flashed emerald and a figure stepped out.

Harry opened his eyes quickly when he felt someone's presence hovering over him, standing on the other side of the couch. For most people, someone randomly showing up in their home would be cause for concern, but as only a limited few could actually enter his house without him letting them through, Harry simply stayed where he was and stared back at an amused Hermione Granger. Her bushy hair was tied back in a ponytail and she was wearing a Kenmare sweatshirt that she usually wore whenever she attended on of his matches.

"Is this how all professional quidditch players spend their spare time Harry? I guess it could be worse."

Harry raised his brows, "Oh, how would that be?"

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "You're joking aren't you? Do you not remember me walking in and finding you passed out on the floor that one time, completely starkers? I certainly remember it! It's been burned into my memory permanently."

"Yes, well, that was not one of my finer moments I admit," Harry winced. That event had taken place during the beginning of his playing career while he was still in his drink as much as possible phase. "Don't act like seeing me starkers was torture though, I've never had complaints about it before."

She shook her head vigorously, "Harry, we're moving the conversation into a direction that it should not go, so I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." She walked over to the other side of the couch, grabbed both of Harry's legs and shoved them off the couch so that she could sit down. Hermione's surprising strength forced Harry to sit up or risk rolling off of the couch all together.

"So, is there a reason you interrupted my complete lack of productive activity? You know we're not in Hogwarts anymore? You can't force me to do my homework."

"Very funny Harry," Hermione responded sarcastically. "I just came to see what your plans were for the holidays. It's been forever since I heard from you. I know you own an owl, is it really that hard to send a letter every once in a while letting me know you're still living?"

Harry shrugged guiltily. The truth was that he wasn't the biggest fan of corresponding through post and much preferred speaking with someone face to face. Usually he put off writing a letter and some times completely forgot about it. He actually felt bad though when it came to talking with Hermione because she was more important to him than most people he kept in touch with.

"Hermione, do you really have to ask what my holiday plans are? I do the same exact thing every year on Christmas. I'll be going to see Teddy in the morning, the Burrow in the afternoon, and then stopping by your parents' place in the evening."

Hermione huffed, "I just wanted to double check everything with you, make sure you weren't going to coop yourself up here by yourself."

Harry knew something else was bothering Hermione. At some point in there friendship during the previous few years they had moved forward and Hermione had laid off the constant nitpicking and mothering that she had struggled with in their time at Hogwarts. Looking more closely at her visage, Harry could see that she was rather pale, and that there was a faint trace of dark bags under her eyes. Determined to get to the bottom of her troubles, Harry scooted his body over on the couch and placed his arm around her shoulders, pleased when she didn't tense up.

"Now that that is out of the way, care to tell me what's actually bothering you? I don't mean to be so blunt, but you look like you haven't slept in a week."

Hermione instantly looked like she was about to vehemently deny any such thing, but before any words could leave her mouth she seemed to deflate even further, a frown marring her usually attractive face.

"I don't know, I'm just frustrated and exhausted. I thought doing this apprenticeship with the judge would lead to a higher position with the Magical Law Enforcement, but it feels like its going nowhere at all."

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned softly.

"I mean that I've become his secretary—at least that's what he treats me like. I get his tea, I sort his letters, and I do almost all of his research, but he barely even acknowledges it at all."

"Have you talked to him about it at all?"

"Of course I have," Hermione almost growled. "I asked him for a recommendation for one of the barrister positions with the M.L.E., but he said he didn't think I was ready. Of course I'm ready! I took the required classes, I passed the exams, and I've been ready for a year."

Harry tightened his grip on her shoulders and tried to get her to calm herself down. She was breathing heavily now, and seemed to almost be on the verge of tears. "Can't you apply anyway Hermione? Do it whether he thinks your are ready or not. Forget about him."

Hermione gave something between a laugh and a sob. "Oh Harry, it's not that simple. Everyone in the ministry is connected somehow, you need a recommendation for one of those positions or you have no chance of getting it."

"And let me guess," Harry began heatedly, "all the departments are still being run by old, wealthy, male purebloods?"

"Pretty much," Hermione nodded. "Getting in being a woman is hard enough, being a woman and a muggleborn is almost fatal. Not too much has changed since Voldemort died."

They sat in silence for several minutes, Hermione resting her head against Harry's shoulder. She had settled down, but her face still reflected her discontent. Harry didn't know what to tell her. The fact that the ministry was still being run by prejudiced aristocrats wasn't surprising, but still frustrating. All of the pain they had all gone through, and nothing much had changed fundamentally. He would have suggested throwing his considerable amount of influence around the ministry, but he knew Hermione would react to that in an extremely negative manner.

"What about other law firms Hermione? Surely the ministry isn't the only place to work?"

"That's an option, but not a very attractive one," Hermione explained. "Most private firms either require extensive experience or hire from within. I'd have to start at the very bottom again and work my way up. I just always expected to be doing something more substantive by now."

An idea popped into the front of Harry's mind. "Well, then do it yourself Hermione. Start your own law firm, be your own boss. It's the only way I see to get around everything."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed, causing Harry to briefly worry about her sanity. "You must be joking Harry. All that money that you make is apparently going to your head, because normal people can't just start businesses on a whim. I'd have to pay for an office, pay taxes on the office, make changes to the interior, and hire staff. My parents used most of their money restoring their dental practice and it would take me twenty years to be able to afford all of that Harry." She stopped laughing instantly when she saw the grin appear on his face. "No, Harry, absolutely not. I'm not going to-" That was as far as she got before Harry placed his hand over her mouth, instantly silencing her, but earning him Hermione's version of the basilisk's stare.

"Listen Hermione, you're my best friend, even more so than Ron. In your hysterical rant just a second ago, you noted that I have an abundant amount of money. Instead of having it sitting in the bank doing absolutely nothing, you could be putting it to a productive use. Please don't pull a Weasley on me, and just accept the money." Harry pulled his hand away from her mouth, and prepared to jump back in case his safety was in jeopardy. Calling Hermione hysterical was not something that he would normally dare to do. Luckily, Hermione didn't reach for her wand.

"First of all Harry Potter, if you ever try to shut me up like that again, I swear I will use spells on you that you couldn't possibly even dream of. Second, I am not hysterical and I do not rant. Third, it's a loan and not a gift. I will pay you back eventually so just keep your objection to yourself," she finished as she noticed Harry about to comment on her repaying the money. A little surprised that she had given in so easily, he kept his mouth shut and decided not to push his luck.

"Oh and one more thing Harry."

"What's that?" Hermione didn't answer his question. Instead she sat up on her knees and, like a spring being released from tension, shot at him. She hugged him tightly, chanting her thanks over and over again. Finally, she sat back against the arm of the couch and flashed him a radiant smile.

"You are truly one of a kind Harry. I promise I won't get anything extravagant, just enough to get by with. I'll let you know when I find something so that you can see it."

Harry waved her off. "Hey, don't buy some hole in the wall. Get whatever you're comfortable with. Just let me know how much everything is and I'll have the bank transfer it over to your account."

"Thank you so much Harry. You have no idea how much this means to me," Hermione beamed. Suddenly, looking as if she just remembered something, she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "Now that you've probably just made this the best Christmas ever for me, I think it's time we moved onto more important topics, namely your love life."

"My love life?" Harry inquired, completely confused at what she was talking about. Spotting his confusion, Hermione passed over the piece of parchment she had brought with her. Harry unfolded it and recognized it as a clipping from a copy of the Daily Prophet. Shock adorning his face, he knew instantly what Hermione was getting at. There, in a moving photograph, was a picture of Katie's home. However, that was not the thing that stood out in the photograph. Standing in front of the front door, was both himself and Katie, and over and over again the scene played out of Katie reaching up to hug him and kiss him on the cheek. What's more, it was like a spot light was on the both of them. Harry hadn't left that night until it was dark, and the streetlight shined down on them, clearly illuminating their features and actions. He turned his attention to the small blurb that accompanied the picture, and noted happily that they hadn't created some vile, scandalous story out of the ordeal. He looked away from the picture and back to Hermione who was grinning at him broadly, almost bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Well?" she questioned.

"Well what? It's a good picture."

"Come on, Harry. There's more to it than that, and I refuse to leave until I have some concrete details. I had no idea you were dating Katie. This is why you need to respond to my post. I'm completely out of the loop now."

"Hey, calm down or I'm going to condition that money on you naming your law firm after one of Luna's ridiculous creatures—her choice." That was certainly enough for Hermione to stop her interrogation, as Harry well knew it would. "Now there is a very good explanation for all of this. Katie's working at Quality Quidditch Supplies, which is holding an auction to benefit kids at St. Mungo's. I volunteered to give her some things to bid on, and was dropping them off at her place. We went out to dinner afterwards and I stopped back for tea when we were done. She was just thanking me for my donations to the auction."

Hermione visibly deflated after that. "Oh. Sorry for jumping to conclusions, but I always liked Katie, and she is so much better than the other girls I've seen you with the past couple years. Although, in fairness that's not much of a feat."

"Wow, Hermione, tell me your real feelings," he commented, laced heavily with sarcasm.

"I'm sorry Harry, but it's the truth. After you and Ginny broke up, there wasn't a single girl you went out with that could be mistaken for being intelligent. They were more boobs than brains."

Halted for a second by the fact that Hermione had used the word boobs, Harry responded, "I wouldn't even say that I ever went out with them Hermione. I was pretty much some sort of conquest for them, and the relationships were over after a night. I think I'm finished with that kind of thing. Sure it was fun at the time, but I want something more in my life than that."

"Well, now you have an opportunity Harry," Hermione pointed out. "Katie's wonderful, you have things in common, and you've known her since you were eleven years old. You certainly looked like you enjoyed her affection in that picture."

Harry sighed, realizing the truth in Hermione's words. Katie really was lovely, and not just in her looks, but her personality as well. She was easy to talk to, and even though it had been awhile since they spoke, they had joked with each other like it had only been a mere few days. "We actually already have a date set up," Harry mentioned.

"Really?" Hermione expressed her surprise.

"Well, I don't know if it's a real date. I don't think we really had that understanding when we discussed it. I'm going with her to the auction on New Years Eve."

Hermione whistled. "Wow, Harry, that's probably going to be a media circus. They may only have a picture of you two hugging now, but there will be hundreds more of you showing up together. Everyone's certainly going to think you're dating."

Harry put his head his hands. "You're right. I don't know if she understands what she's going to be subjected to. I don't want to make her life a matter for public consumption." He looked up at Hermione beseechingly. "What do you think I should do?"

"Obviously you need to talk to her about it, not just me," she responded. "Why don't you invite her to come with you to my parents Christmas night? The Burrow would be too many people, and it would just be me and my parents there."

"Are you sure they wouldn't mind?"

"They love you Harry, they wouldn't mind at all. If anything, I'm the one who is going to suffer. All of this relationship talk is going to have my mother pestering me to no end to settle down."

"Why don't you settle down?"

"I am settling down. I'm hopefully settling down into my career."

Harry chuckled. "That's a nice, diplomatic answer. I'm sure your mother loves it."

Hermione stood up from the couch getting ready to leave, however she turned back around before she reached the fireplace. "Let's get you nice and married, and then we can all get together and have a nice, long discussion about my love life."

"Marriage? Five minutes ago we were still on dating," Harry exclaimed.

Hermione didn't look concerned. "What can I say Harry? I like to plan a few steps ahead. You should know that by now." Without giving him a chance to respond, she waved and was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

After spending Christmas morning with his godson and his grandmother, Harry spent the remainder of the afternoon at the home of his favorite family of redheads. It was near five o'clock when Harry finally managed to extract himself from the Weasley's. Like every year, he had immensely enjoyed spending time with his adopted family, but the increasing amount of small children that were beginning to pop up every year made things interesting to say the least. Not that it wasn't fun, but any semblance of peacefulness was long gone with little hope of returning. The Weasleys had been thrilled with his gift and most of the equipment had been broken in by the time that he left. It was always hard to leave the festivities, but Bill and Fleur's daughter, Victoire, had provided the perfect excuse by accidentally tipping a bowl of mashed potatoes onto her Uncle Harry's lap, prompting the need for him to clean up.

He took another shower as soon as he arrived back at his house and changed into a clean pair of tan trousers and grey sweater, knowing that walking around for the rest of the night, reeking of cooked potatoes would not be comfortable at the Grangers and more importantly, would not be very appealing to Katie. His ability to appeal to Ms. Bell had certainly been something that was on his mind ever since his discussion with Hermione. After the turbulent nature of his dating experiences since the end of his relationship with Ginny, having something that was more fulfilling and longer lasting was what Harry knew he needed. There were so many other unknowns in his life at the moment, including the future of his young quidditch career, that he wanted some constant in his life, someone he knew was there for him both physically and emotionally. It wasn't easy finding a woman more attracted to him than his professional occupation. Yet Katie offered that. She played the game herself in Hogwarts and understood the pressure and popularity that accompanied it.

Even with the sudden realization that he was undoubtedly attracted to Katie and how well they got on, Harry's Gryffindor courage had betrayed him when it actually came to asking her to come with him to the Granger's. Instead of acting like a man and going to speak to her in person, Harry had sent Skippy out with his rambling, written invitation. He was pleasantly surprised when she wrote back accepting his offer, but now the problem was he had no idea what she was expecting or how she viewed the whole situation. Did she think that he was just being friendly, and just reciprocating her own invitation to the New Year's party? Or did she see it as Harry wanting to be something more, going out of his way to see her on Christmas? He wasn't someone who was comfortable dealing with these situations. His dating experiences over the past four years had consisted of meeting a girl with generous assets in tight-fitting clothing after a match, going home with them, and then saying good-bye while he got dressed the next morning. It sounded pathetic even to him.

Harry finished getting ready by slipping on a pair of brown dress shoes and then a dark leather jacket. The temperature had dropped drastically in the past two days and the newsman said to expect snow at some point. He walked into the kitchen to check on Skippy who was sleeping soundly, without a care in the world. Harry took out a small bowl and poured a generous handful of owl treats for him in case he woke before he returned. With that finished, Harry concentrated on the sidewalk in front of Katie's house and apparated out of his kitchen.

The street was mostly deserted, as the people seemed to be enjoying the Christmas evening in their homes, not bustling about. The light of the day was slowly dimming and giving way to dark. Just as the news had predicted, a slight scattering of flurries of all different shapes and sizes were starting to make their presence known. Harry immediately regretted not bringing a hat or jacket with a hood, as the small frozen flakes were already beginning to accumulate in his hair. Not wanting to dally about outside any longer than necessary, Harry quickly made his way to Katie's front door. He could see that the kitchen light was on and that someone was moving around inside. It gave him a small thrill to believe that Katie maybe eagerly waiting for him to arrive. There was no surprise that as soon as he knocked, she immediately skipped to the door and pulled it open. To say Harry was pleased with her appearance would be the understatement of the century. He had told her to wear something casual, but apparently the females' version of casual and his were on two different hemispheres of thought. She had on a form-fitting dress, cut down to just above her knees, with a cloth belt that tied around the back. It was also cut tastefully in the front, not low enough to be inappropriate, but enough that it would keep Harry's attention for the rest of the night. If he had to describe the color, he would have said it was something between a deep red and maroon, but not quite traditional Gryffindor maroon. Her hair was down and she had added a few curls to give it a different look, one that Harry thought suited her really well.

"Happy Christmas, Harry, you're right on schedule," Katie greeted as she held open the door for him.

Harry stopped admiring her long enough to respond. "To you as well. You look absolutely gorgeous. Now I feel completely underdressed."

She smiled brightly, her cheeks coloring slightly. "Thank you. You look great. No need to worry. Why don't you come in before you're completely covered in snow?" Harry passed by her as he stepped into the kitchen. He noticed as he walked into the pleasantly warm room that her kitchen table was covered in various bags and packages. "Sorry about the mess. My family came over this morning and we exchanged gifts. I was just organizing my things while I waited for you."

Harry chuckled, brushing any excess snow from his hair, "Don't even think on it. I'm not one to criticize someone else's organization. You should see my house at the end of the quidditch season." Harry glanced down at his watch. "Not to rush you, but are you ready to go? I told Hermione we would be there at six, so we've got about five minutes. I'd hate to give 'Ms. always prompt and punctual' a reason to comment on my timing."

"Does Hermione know that you call her that when she's not around?"

"Trust me Katie," Harry started, holding his hands up in a placating manner, "I know for a fact that Hermione uses words that I can't repeat in the presence of a classy young woman such as you to describe me sometimes—and she's not above doing it right to my face."

"I thought you two were the best of friends," Katie exclaimed, slightly perplexed.

"Oh we are," Harry corrected vehemently. "It's just that's how we express our affection for each other. When you've been best friends with someone for over a decade, the banter back and forth is just amusing after a while. There isn't any venom."

"Well that's good to hear, you've been close for so long." Katie walked over to one of the chairs around her table and pulled off what Harry though was a long jacket. "Do you think I'll need this, or are we apparating right into the Granger's house?"

"Better put it on because we'll be outside. Mr. Granger is a little jumpy. Doesn't much like wizards and witches popping in and out unannounced. There is a story that goes along with that which would highly embarrass Hermione, but I can't tell it at the moment. I'm saving it for the appropriate time for use as blackmail if I ever need her to do something that she is not so inclined to do."

Katie batted her eyelashes at him and put on her best adorable pout. "Aw Harry, you can't allude to something tantalizing like that and not follow through. Are you sure you can't tell me?" She then proceeded to give the most attractive sigh he had ever heard. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

Ignoring those inevitable inappropriate ideas that immediately jumped to the forefront of his dirty, masculine mind, Harry shook his head trying to clear it from the haze of her borderline illegal use of cuteness. Even though the battle was a furious one, he was able to hold strong against her onslaught. "Sorry, but your womanly wiles won't be enough to change my mind at the moment."

Harry was concerned when she smiled evilly. "You say that now, but no one can withstand it forever. I'll just have to try harder when you aren't expecting it."

Realizing that they were spending too much time in her kitchen flirting, Harry redirected their attention to what it was supposed to be on. "Here, let me help you with your jacket." Harry reached his hand out and Katie obliged by handing it to him. He unfolded it and held it open so that she could slip into it easily. "Alright, grab onto my arm an hold on, I've never been the smoothest apparator. Magical transportation and I are lifelong enemies."

"Except for broomsticks," Katie corrected.

"Except for broomsticks. Although they have indirectly almost killed me once or twice." Harry held his right arm out and Katie wrapped her left around it. Concentrating on their next destination, they disappeared from the kitchen with a barely audible pop.

They appeared in what Harry could only describe as a beautiful and wealthy neighborhood. All of the homes were large, and several had extremely expensive vehicles sitting in front of them. Harry led Katie, with arms still entwined, out of the small copse of trees that provided cover to him whenever he apparated into the muggle occupied street that the Granger's lived on. He led them to a house that had a neat brick exterior and two-car garage, which was lit up with holiday lights. After walking up the path that led to the front porch, Harry pulled open the screen door and rapped his knuckles against the main one to alert someone's attention to their presence. In less than ten seconds, the door was flung open and a cheerful Hermione greeted them.

"Happy Christmas you two! I'm so glad that you both could make it." Hermione forced Harry to disentangle his arm from Katie's as she wrapped her arms around him to give him a tight hug. Harry bent his head slightly and gave her kiss on her cheek. After hugging him, she pulled back to do the same to Katie. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see Harry in such excellent company for once. He spends too much time around those brutes he calls teammates and the floozies they associate with."

"Hermione!" Harry replied indignant at what she told his date. She had been so keen on them getting together, but he didn't think her putting him in such a distasteful light was going to be helpful. He was pleased though, when he saw Katie bring up a hand to cover her laughter, instead of looking at him with distaste.

"Oh, hush Harry. I'm simply noting your improving sensibility. Now come in, come in, Mum is just finishing dinner. Katie, I'll take your jacket while I let Dad know you're both here. I'll take your jacket as well Harry." Hermione took Katie's their jackets as they both stepped into the main hallway that welcomed visitors inside. "I'll be right back. Harry, you know your way around."

Harry gently placed his hand on Katie's lower back and led them forward into the interior of the Granger's home. Looking straight forward, the main hallway led into the large dining room, while on either side of the hallway there were openings that led to other parts of the home. To the left was the main sitting room, where there was a comfortable couch, recliner and several other single chairs. There were family pictures and pieces of artwork that adorned the walls, while a moderately larger television resided across from the couch. On the right side of the hallway the opening led to a narrower room that contained a small coat closet the wooden staircase that led to the second floor, where Hermione had ascended in ahead of them to fetch her father. Harry led them straight ahead so that they could see Mrs. Granger in the Kitchen, which was situated directly opposite of the dining room. Mrs. Granger was just putting the finishing touches on a salad when she noticed their entrance. She immediately wiped her hands on a dishcloth and made her way over to them.

"Harry dear, it's so nice to see you. You don't stop by nearly often enough." Mrs. Granger was just slightly taller than her daughter, with the same hair color, although hers was much straighter. She had on an apron over her pants and sweater, which she took off before embracing him. Stepping back she greeted his companion. "And you must be Katie?"

"Yes, Mrs. Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for inviting me tonight," said Katie.

Mrs. Granger smiled, "Oh, it's no trouble at all. Any friend of Hermione's and Harry's is always welcome in our home."

"Can we help you with anything Mrs. Granger?" Harry inquired, wanting to be helpful to his host.

She waved him off towards the dining room. "Oh, no need Harry. Everything is finished. Why don't you two have a seat at the table? There's a bottle a wine on the table if you want to help yourselves to it." She then turned back into the kitchen and began organizing plates.

Harry and Katie stepped back into the dining room, where they located the wine bottle they had been directed to. The cork was only sitting halfway inside as it had already been opened, so Harry was able to pull it out without the assistance of magic or corkscrew. He guessed that Hermione had already indulged herself as there was a half-full glass sitting on the edge of the table closest to the front door. Katie picked up two empty glasses from the table and held them while Harry poured each of them a somewhat generous amount.

"Mrs. Granger seems really lovely," Katie commented, before sampling from her glass.

"She really is," Harry said with genuine affection. "Her and Mr. Granger have always been extremely welcoming to me. That really means a lot to me and says a lot about them considering the danger that I've put Hermione in throughout the years."

Katie reached up and playfully patted his cheek, "I think it must be all of that natural charm you have. It's completely irresistible."

Harry's eyebrows raised at her comment, ignoring for the moment the pleasant contact from her hand. "I hope that isn't an undercurrent of sarcasm I detect." Harry reached with his free hand and held Katie's. "I'll have you know that I can be incredibly charming." He brought her hand up to his lips and ever so slightly placed a kiss on her knuckles, and then another feather-light kiss on the back of her hand. He was incredibly proud of himself as he watched her face flush, and definitely not from the wine she had consumed. His momentary pleasure came to a screeching halt as he heard someone clearing their throat as well as someone chuckling directly behind him. Lowering her hand, but not releasing it, he turned his head around and saw the chuckling form of Mr. Granger clutching a beer in his hand, while Hermione was staring at them with unrestrained glee. Harry couldn't tell if Hermione or the lit Christmas tree in the corner of the dining room was shining more brightly.

"Hello Harry, hope we weren't intruding on anything," Mr. Granger exclaimed, enjoying the uncomfortable situation his daughter's friend seemed to be in. Mr. Granger was at least a head taller than Hermione, and was slim, but not skinny. He was much more the academic than athlete, which was unsurprising to Harry knowing Hermione as well as he did. His hair was darker brown than both his wife and daughter, but was slightly thinning at the top. Mr. Granger's face was also very defined, and his glasses that he wore occasionally were in the pocket of his brown dinner jacket.

"Yes, Harry, I hope we weren't intruding," Hermione added smirking.

Harry smiled thinly at her. "No, not at all." He then turned back to her father. "It's nice to see you again Mr. Granger. This lovely young lady next to me is Katie Bell. She was a classmate in the same house as Hermione and I."

Mr. Granger walked over and held his hand out to Katie, which she shook. "Pleasure to meet you Katie. I think Hermione has mentioned your name once or twice in reference to Harry's quidditch shenanigans while he was at school."

"It was probably something about his reckless flying and me helping him get to the hospital wing," Katie laughed, bumping her shoulder Harry's as he grumbled at her description of his flying.

"Yes, I'm sure it was something to that effect. God knows, half the letters Hermione wrote home she wrote from Harry's bedside," Mr. Granger quipped. "Speaking of Mr. Potter," he continued looking back at Harry, making him cringe slightly at the use of his last name. "Hermione told us about how you're helping her start up her law practice. As much as we want to tell you it's too much money, we know how hard headed you are and that you won't change your mind, so all we can really say is thank you. We want the best for our daughter and her career means so much to her, we really are in your debt."

"You're not in my debt, Mr. Granger, Hermione either. If anything I'm in her debt for everything she's done for me over the years. Knowing Hermione is happy is worth considerably more than the money, no matter what the bank note says," Harry finished.

Mr. Granger was silent for a moment, looking a little choked up at Harry's words. Not able to think of anything he turned to Katie. "Katie, if I were you, I wouldn't let this boy get away. He's one of a kind."

If Harry was surprised, but extremely pleased by Mr. Granger's statement, he was even more so when Katie grabbed his hand, looked him in the eyes, and said, "I think you're right sir. I don't think I'm going to let him go anywhere." In Harry's opinion, this was working out to be an excellent Christmas evening—and they hadn't even had dinner yet.


End file.
